


Mushroom Punches I

by CinnamonQuartz



Series: Mushroom Punches [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Romance, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:21:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24042766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnamonQuartz/pseuds/CinnamonQuartz
Summary: Boss? Sucks. Roommates? Loud. Job? Boring. Refrigerator? Empty. Her office mate? A dud. But she kinda liked it when he laughed.
Relationships: Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Series: Mushroom Punches [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1734322
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	Mushroom Punches I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [checkered_roses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkered_roses/gifts).



Pansy Parkinson was _bored_.

Every day.

She went to work at The Conservatory doing research on mushrooms and spores. She gritted her teeth when her sexist boss threatened to fire her for no damn reason other than her bad reputation. She put up with her loud as hell roommates, Tracey and Daphne, when they brought guys over and did things that made their beds squeak. She put up with a lackluster boyfriend named Joel who did not make her bed squeak.

And every Monday through Friday, she was forced to deal with her dud of a partner: Neville Longbottom.

The idiot actually enjoyed his work and did it happily. He loved it so much he even put up with her presence, though begrudgingly, when she was assigned to their tiny office space located in the far corner of the basement.

Out of sight of all the other Herbologists and away from the more important projects. She was sure that wasn't a coincidence. Even among the most hardcore of Herbologists, the Spore specialists like Neville were a rare breed as there wasn't much magic involved with mushrooms.

Fungus was fungus.

She wound up with him because of the job opening, the career path severely unpopular. And because no one else would hire her, so why not go play around with some spores and fungi in a damp basement? She needed the job so she could afford her life of struggling paycheck to paycheck.

Of course, in the spirit of harmony, they agreed to draw a fat yellow line right down the middle of the room. One which neither of them could cross unless they were leaving.

Like she was.

10 minutes early.

"You know he always checks to make sure you're here at 5," Neville muttered from his desk. His back was to her as he hunched over a _Pleurotus pitrinocileatus_ , one of the few truly magical mushrooms of the world. They spread out across a damp, hardwood log kept warm by magic. The golden mushroom loved warm temps much like its nonmagical counterpart.

And Neville for some reason.

Mushrooms loved Neville. These particular Oysters were wide, flat, and golden, and they seemed to beam whenever he spoke or paid them any attention at all.

"Dewey can suck an egg," Pansy told him crankily, folding up her white lab coat that had a tiny leaf stitched into the collar, and pulled her backpack over her shoulder. She had a load of work that needed looking over, but that was a problem for Saturday-Pansy to worry about. Not her. She was Friday-Pansy. And Friday-Pansy had a date.

"Don't let him hear you say that," he warned. "Come here first, look at this."

Pansy paused by the door, holding her bag and only just on her side of the yellow line. "I have plans tonight. I assume you don't know what that's like? Having a date?"

"You know it," he replied easily. He was used to her barbs. She'd have to get meaner to get more of a rise out of him. "Come have a quick look."

"Fine," she dropped her bag. "Permission to cross the line, Sir?"

"C'mon," he urged impatiently, ignoring her scorn.

The office might've been tiny, but they managed to cram several shelves all along the walls and two massive tables on their respective sides to hold all their equipment and a plethora of mushrooms and spores. But also several smaller tables between them to hold those picky mushrooms that needed seclusion. She had to zigzag a bit to get to his work bench.

Pansy ignored his closeness as she bent over his microscope and peered into the lens. And found as she expected. Magical Golden Oyster mushroom cells. Doing magical stuff. Oooo. Wow. "Spore producing cells, what a find, Longbottom."

"Look closely," he huffed, agitated with her sarcasm like always. And standing way too close to her.

Squinting, she did as he said, realizing he was only trying to delay her exit and keep her from getting into more trouble with Dewey.

Strange how the Tyrant never gave any grief to Neville, but whatever. No big deal.

"Okay I do see something strange," she admitted in a small voice. Electric charges burst between the cells, jumping in brilliant arcs between the bisidiums. Aka, the spore producing cells.

"You ever seen that before?" he asked, his agitation disappearing under his excitement.

"Nope, maybe it's happy to see you," she stood up, feeling irritated. "Don't get too excited, I know that doesn't happen very often."

He rolled his eyes. Big, brown eyes that made the same expression at least 10 times a day. "Would you like to come to my birthday party in a few weeks?"

"Definitely not," she brushed by him and picked up her backpack. They worked together. Any rogue friendliness that happened was purely professional. "Oh look, 5 o'clock on the dot. Cya on Monday."

On her way out, she spotted Dewey heading from the other direction. Holding a clipboard, and a Quick-Ink Quill behind his ear. He spotted her and began rushing in her direction. Definitely time to go home.

She ran for the elevator and barely made it. Finally free. She wasn't lying when she told Neville she had plans. A date, with Joel. Not that the charming blonde haired, blue-eyed Quidditch player was anything special. The Appleby Arrows were certainly lucky to have him.

But the real allure was anything that got her out the cramped townhouse she shared with Tracey and Daphne. She didn't want to call her longtime friends and roommates slutty. But she wasn't afraid to say what was actually on her mind.

If they were in a ongoing competition to get the most dick by Christmas, they were number 1 and 2 respectively. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Power to them, as far as Pansy was concerned. She was just a bit jealous. Her and Joel had sex, but they hadn't achieved screaming-bed-squeaking-breaking-head-board sex yet...

That would change tonight.

Pansy had a little black thing. Very strappy. Didn't cover much. And she was determined to get a bed squeaking in the same fashion Daphne's often did.

She Floo'd home and patted Wilbert's head. A taxidermy pig's head that hung on the wall by the hearth. Across the room, Tracey Davis sat on the bar top that divided the kitchen from the living space.

Eating one of Pansy's yogurts.

The long limbed brunette smirked meanly at her. "I expected you home 10 minutes ago, otherwise you would have seen me eating one of your clementines, too."

"Of course you did, you hag," Pansy sneered in Tracey's direction, kicking off her work shoes. "Longbottom held me up again."

"Clueless Longbottom the Cock-Blocker," Tracey smacked her lips, finishing off the yogurt. "You'd think he would have learned better by now after that Memoriam business."

"Don't expect him to know anything relevant if it isn't about mushrooms or spores, Trace."

"It's a shame though," she argued back. "He's not horrible looking. That Abbott girl definitely messed him up though. I have this urge to fix him…"

"You're despicable," Pansy commented, searching the fridge and not finding any more yogurts. She slammed the door. "You ate my last one? I hate this bloody hell-hole."

"Delicious," Tracey smacked again. "You're going to be gone tonight, I assume?"

"Yes," Pansy nodded. "I'm wearing that slutty thing I found in your closet and going to Joel's."

"And Daphne is—"

Pansy's other roommate came through the door just then, dragging a strapping young lad behind her. She also patted Wilbert's head. "Hey ladies, this is Cillian," she told them, barely stopping as they made towards Daphne's bedroom. "He works at the gym down the street. Do you know what a gym is?"

"The place where people go to _die_ ," Pansy informed them with a snarky smile. "And they pay for the privilege too."

"Ignore her, Cill," Daphne purred all too happily. "She's always _cranky_."

Then she slammed the door shut firmly behind them.

"Wow she actually introduced that one," Tracey said, reaching behind her to grab another clementine.

"Argh!" Pansy dashed around the bar top and grabbed her precious citrus fruit. "Stop eating my food, Tracey Davis. Buy your own!"

She was getting seriously sick and tired of her damn roommates! They were loud all the time and constantly stealing her stuff. Just because Tracey could manage to force her giant's feet into Pansy's heels didn't mean she should. "And stop leaving the spoon in the peanut butter!"

And always stealing her snacks. If Pansy bought a package of biscuits she had to hide them magically, otherwise they'd be gone in an hour.

"Why don't you share?" Tracey pouted as Pansy snatched the small fruit away. "Daphne's right. You're cranky."

"It's a personal character flaw," Pansy sneered. "Hands off."

She marched into her own bedroom just in time to hear Daphne's bed squeaking. Damn! Was it really so hard to cast a Privacy Charm?

She had to get out of the house ASAP. Locking her door, she hid her clementines in the closet and grabbed the expensive lingerie she bought specifically for this night. It wasn't actually from Tracey's closet, but it would fit right in.

Leather.

Sexy.

The black teddy was little more than strings with small patches of sheer lace to 'cover' up her goodies. She wasn't entirely sure how to get herself into the thing but it was necessary. She had to inject some steam into her and Joel's love life before it fizzled out.

Because whatever sex they were having sounded nothing like what was going on just on the opposite side of her bedroom wall. Pansy did not want to listen to Daphne screaming in carnal pleasure for several hours.

She wanted to be the one screaming, thank you very much.

So she showered and brushed some make-up on her face. Curled the tips of her black hair and brushed it out so it bounced around her cheeks. Then, while it took some doing, she managed to get the tiny straps in all the right places across her body.

Pansy stared at herself in the mirror, thinking she looked ridiculous. Like a tied up sausage link with lipstick on. But what else could she do? Sit around and listen to Daphne get laid?

Hell no.

This was as sexy as she was going to get and Joel was going to appreciate her efforts. She grabbed her long black cloak and slipped into some questionably high heels.

Tracey wolf whistled as Pansy exited her bedroom, her bare legs peeking through the slips of her cloak. It gave Pansy the push she needed to keep walking.

"It's gonna get gooooood tonight!" she shouted as Pansy left.

Laughing, she Apparated from the stoop of their town-home and straight to Kylie Park. A wizarding community where Joel lived by himself. He could afford to do things like that. She walked quickly to his building and took the stairs up, knocking on his door just once before she turned the knob.

Happy to be away from work and mushrooms and from her insane roommates. Feeling sexy and empowered, the silk lining of her cloak caressing her skin as she walked.

Pansy locked the door behind her, stepping into Joel's luxury apartment. "Joel?" she called. "I'm early and I have a surprise for you…"

Except, the closer she got to Joel's bedroom, the more she felt like she'd gone back home instead. But she was certain it wasn't Daphne and Gym-Boy behind Joel's closed bedroom door making those god awful sounding grunts.

Damn.

How did she miss this?

Pansy stood feeling stumped, in front of Joel's bedroom, listening to the tell-tale grunts and screams of two people in extremis, wondering if she was that… clueless? Her and Joel had been going out for a few months. Steadily seeing and sleeping with each other.

He was the one who suggested they remain exclusive with each other.

Was she a sucker or what?

Now she was faced with a mighty decision. What kind of woman was she? The kind who caught her lover sleeping with someone else and quietly disappeared? Or the kind who made herself known and…

Caused the biggest conniption fit ever to be seen on the face of the earth?

With a stomp of her foot, she decided she was chiefly in category 2. She opened the door with force, allowing it to bang into the wall. Joel in all his naked glory jumped off his lady friend in surprise.

"Hey honey!" Pansy pasted on a fake smile for his benefit.

"Pansy! I thought… I wasn't…" he stammered, grabbing the nearby sheet to cover himself. He took it from his blonde friend, leaving her gasping at his rudeness, and covering her breasts with her hands.

She wasn't nearly as dressed up as Pansy was!

"You weren't expecting me? Obviously."

"Don't be hurt," he insisted guiltily. "You… usually cancel on me."

"So this isn't the first time this has happened? Is that what you're saying?" she stomped her foot again. "Are you kidding me, Joel!?"

"I'm sorry! It's just… you know… I have needs. You're always busy and so... cranky."

"Cranky?" Pansy huffed. "You want cranky? Watch this."

She withdrew her wand and cursed him. The first one she could think of.

.

Pansy went to the only place she knew she'd be alone at 8PM on a Friday night. She went to work. Walking through the dimly lit halls that usually bustled with people while strapped up in leather, covered only by her cloak was disorienting at best. Her heels tapped against the hard floors but no one came to see who was walking the halls at night.

She took the stairs all the way down to the basement and wandered aimlessly into her office, leaving the main light off, and slumping into her spinning chair. A gentle, hazy blue glow from the Amanita bisporigerio.

Glowing Death Angel. Very poisonous. Very beautiful. Good for all sorts of poisons and oddly, dental work, if used in tiny doses. The air smelled earthy and humid like always. And warm from the heated logs that helped them cultivate different types of mushrooms.

The only noise came from a gentle Misting Charm that kept the back corner in moist conditions. It was nice, sitting there in the soft dark, _finally_ alone.

Perhaps it was a good thing she caught Joel doing something so damaging to their relationship. The more she thought about them breaking up and what that might mean, the more comfortable she became with the idea.

It wasn't like they were in love or anything. She got more joy from listening to him scream in agony as his toenails grew into the size of tree trunks than actually being around him.

Most of her irritation stemmed from the act of cheating. Would it be so hard for him to just come out and say - oh, hey, I think we should see other people?

And again, it came back to her. Was she so blind? How did she not realize Joel was seeing other women?

A throat clearing interrupted her thoughts, and she at first thought it was her own. Then, slowly, she spun around in her chair and looked over to where Neville's workbench was.

"Oh, bloody hell, what are you doing here, Longbottom?"

"Uhmm… working," he said shyly, barely noticeable in the dark. His outline was a fuzzy blue shadow.

"It's _Friday_ ," she complained, pulling her cloak tighter.

"You're here," he pointed out.

"I'm…"

Damn, he was right. She hated when that happened.

"See as I remember it," he continued. "You had plans. A date."

Yep. It was official. Getting shit-talked by Clueless Neville Longbottom was definitely way worse than Joel cheating on her. But then… that reminded her she was Clueless too.

"How did you not know?" she asked, unable to help herself. It seemed to be the question everyone wanted to ask him, and one she vehemently avoided while they were working. Getting that personal would do nothing but cause trouble between them. But now she really, really wanted to know, to see if it matched her experience.

But as usual, she spoke without thinking, proving her callous nature no matter how hard she tried to hide it. It seemed as if she were trying to be sharp with him, and bring up something obviously very painful, when really she was genuinely curious.

He stood up from his bench, making movements like he was about to leave. Packing up for the night.

"Wait!" she stood up and approached the line. "I only asked because… I just found my date fucking another woman. Apparently it isn't the first time he's done that since we started dating. And I had no idea."

Neville heaved a huge sigh, pausing with his back to her. She couldn't take credit for coming up with his nickname. Clueless Neville Longbottom. That's what the paper called him. It was probably the reason he enjoyed a job hidden deep away in a basement, only working with one other person. Never having to see or talk to anyone else.

It took him so long to respond, her eyes fully adjusted to the dark, until she could see him much better in the soft blue light.

"Because she… or he in your case… came off as charming and interested and convinced you they felt the same so whenever you noticed odd behavior you rationalized it away as you being paranoid or having a bad day. They probably helped that along and manipulated you, to keep you complacent."

Stunned at his rant, Pansy tried to breathe, his words hitting a little too close to home. Without permission, she stepped over the yellow line and came to stand beside him, putting her back to the workbench.

She remembered the Memoriam like yesterday, even though it was nearly 5 years ago now. When people got together for the anniversary of the Final Battle. Where everyone flooded the grounds at Hogwarts to remember those who were lost and see the reconstruction of the castle. An all day feast and celebration.

And where, publicly, Neville Longbottom got down on his knee in front of thousands of people to propose to Hannah Abbott only to be shot down when she broke up with him and accepted a ring from Ernie Macmillian not 5 minutes later.

A few people in the crowd clapped at Hannah's new engagement.

But most everyone else was dying of embarrassment for Neville.

"She uh," she gulped, seeing his face turned down in a frown. "She did a real number on you, huh?"

He shook his head, eyes pinched closed. "It was a long time ago, Parkinson. And also, you're on my side of the line."

"So what?" she leaned back on her elbows, looking up at him.

"Don't squash my Emoritas," he warned.

"I would never squash your Emoritas," she put on her best sultry vixen voice. Her intentions were purely to distract him from his emotional pain since she was the one who brought it up in the first place.

It worked. His shock caused him to step back a few paces, looking at her in surprise. He almost looked like he was having a stroke, which for some reason, greatly improved her mood.

Laughing, she stood up straight and went back to her side of the room. "Don't worry, I'm fucking with you."

"Why? Don't you wish we could get along?"

"No," she sat back in her chair, ensuring her cloak covered all parts of herself. "Do you?"

"Of course," he wheeled his chair over to the line before retaking his seat. "We work together. But you're just so… _cranky_."

There was that word again.

"Given to fussiness, prone to anger, full of twists and turns-"

"Easily irritated," he completed for her. "And I believe you do it on purpose to push people away."

Well she was going to outright ignore that statement for the rest of her life. "According to Joel I am too cranky. I guess that's why he decided to go and fuck some blonde chick. Busty Blonde."

"That might be worse than what I went through," he rubbed his chin, considering it.

"It's not," Pansy decided she wanted to keep talking so she scooted her chair over to the yellow line. God she must be truly bored if she wanted to talk to Neville. "What she did is way worse."

"But I didn't walk in on her and Ernie… you know…"

"Fucking?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon, say it," she smiled wickedly. She hadn't ever heard him swear before and suddenly she wanted to corrupt him and his well behaved nature.

"Having an affair."

"Say the word, Neville."

"Caught in the act."

"C'mon, c'mon," she goaded. "Say it. Fu-cking."

"Having sexual relations," he continued to ignore her, forming a thousand yard stare. "I never walked in on it, just learned about it after the fact."

"You know you want to," she leaned forward and her cloak split over her knee, exposing her lower leg and her come-fuck-me-heels. She meant it to, because she didn't want him reliving his past trauma. "Have you ever swore before?"

"Nope," his eyes trailed downwards before jerking back up to her face. "Once you start, you can't stop."

"I can attest to that," Pansy smirked, recovering her leg. She wanted to push him into at least one F-bomb. Then this night might just be turned around. "But really? Not once?"

He shook his head.

"Not even after the Memoriam? I find that hard to believe. There were, what? 3,500 people in attendance?"

"So?" he mumbled and she could just imagine his cheeks going red. But they only looked blue in the soft light.

"Teachers, school staff, the media. They all saw that disaster of a proposal. Didn't that make you want to curse Hannah's name? Even a little bit?"

"Nope," he remained stout.

"I mean everyone was there. I was there. I bet the Minister of Magic was there. That warrants at least one, hearty _fuck_. C'mon."

"No," he snapped at her. Oh good. He was getting angry.

She stood up, waltzing past the line without permission. "What if I just…" she ran her finger along the base of his favorite microscope, listening to him spin around in his chair to watch her. Then she pushed the piece of equipment right off the bench intentionally.

"Pansy!" he shouted, reaching out to catch it but falling short. It crashed to the floor and broke into chunks.

"Oops," she shrugged.

"Don't do that, what's wrong with you?" he shouted, picking up the pieces gently.

"I'm cran-ky," she fake pouted, dancing her fingers down his bench to the Emoritas.

"No! Not my Emoritas!" he quickly deposited the microscope pieces before taking out his wand and pointing it at his beloved Mushrooms, ready to shield.

"Say it," she demanded. "Just once."

"W-why?" he held his wand steady, as if he knew how to use it. And he did. She knew it. He knew it. They both knew it. She was definitely no match for him in a duel. But she wasn't trying to fight him.

She was just bored.

"Because I'm sick of my life," she admitted. "I hate my roommates, I hate my job, I'm horny, I'm too broke for a stiff drink, and I just caught my boyfriend fucking another woman. I want to be the reason Neville Longbottom says the word 'fuck' for the first time."

"That's so stupid," he shook his head, wand faltering slightly. "And I'm not doing it. Especially if you hurt my Emoritas."

Pansy maintained eye contact with him, smirking. But she didn't really want to destroy the perfect Emoritas. The red Caps were healthy, red, and shiny just as they should be. Damn. "Fine."

She walked away, back to her side of the room, wondering how else she could get him to curse. Just once. One good 'Fuck'. It would make her entire weekend worth it.

Then it hit her.

She knew _exactly_ how to get Neville Longbottom to swear. She turned on her toe. "Hey," she said, waiting for him to turn back to her.

Then she pulled the string at her neck allowing her cloak to drop to the floor. Standing in all her strappy, leathery, tied up like a sausage link glory.

Neville's face went from annoyed to jaw-dropped-wide-eyed surprise in a split second, his hand swinging out as he fell backwards. He shouted and managed to knock the entire log full of his Emoritas to the floor. ""

It was even more satisfying than she thought it would be, catching him off guard like that. She smirked again. "Cya on Monday."

.

That impassioned swear fueled her all weekend and found new life when Neville was 35 minutes late for work on Monday. Not once in the entire time the two of them had been working together had he ever been even a minute late.

It wasn't like he had a life or anything. At least, he never spoke of it. Never of friends or family driving him nuts or taking up his time. Pansy knew a little bit about her partner. He brought his own lunch every day. Usually some kind of sandwich with crisps and a fruity soda or juice. He also sneaked in some chocolate cookies filled with creme into the lab because he had such a sweet tooth.

And he was happy to share with her too.

He loved plants. One time he mentioned a greenhouse he owned. Like that was something regular people did. Like he was going on holiday or buying a broomstick or something. He talked about his red roses one Friday but she hadn't been paying attention.

Because she'd been too busy wondering how someone who worked with fungus all damn day long could then go home and play in the dirt.

But that Monday she realized he never spoke of any personal relationships. No parents, no crazy cousins, no noisy roommates, no favorite co-workers(obviously it was her). And when he walked into the office, removing his light jacket and reaching for his lab coat, she spotted the red around his eyes and the horrible look on his face that said something awful had definitely happened.

Damn. She wanted his tardiness to be because of her.

"I got to cover for you this time," she mumbled, playing with her own Warping Webcaps. "Told Dewey you were in the toilet. Seafood breakfast burrito."

Her supervisor hadn't been upset in the least by Neville's absence. If it had been her, she would've been written up on the spot.

"Thanks," he mumbled, voice scratchy and breaking. He followed it up with a pretty solid sniffle. "Sorry—won't happen again."

"Sure it will," she snorted. Being late happened. She would know, she was late all the time. She had the write ups to prove it. "And why are you explaining yourself to me? I'm not your boss."

"You're my co-worker," he sniffed. "You deserve a little respect from me, right?"

He was behind her, setting up his work area. So he didn't see the giant eye roll she gave. "You're the biggest dud on the planet, Longbottom. I don't give a shit if you're late. Or come at all. Or decide to set fire to the entire building for that matter. I would however care if you didn't invite me to participate in a little bit of arson. Not going to lie."

He didn't respond, which was no fun. Most of the time, especially lately, he set up their conversations so she could be obnoxious and rude and snarky. At first she thought he was just that much of a dense idiot, but after a few months of working together Pansy realized he enjoyed being picked on. Just a little.

So he did it on purpose.

But she couldn't do that if he didn't play along.

Pansy let him settle in, hearing his sniffle every once in a while and deep, unsteady breaths as if he were trying to calm down and not cry more. Listening to the sounds of Neville at work. Checking up on their mushrooms, recasting the Misting Charm in the corner, adjusting his microscope.

Then she cleared her throat and said, "Which I'm always down for, by the way."

"Down for what?" he asked, clearly spacing out. He seemed totally distracted.

Turning, she looked over her shoulder towards his work bench and found him looking at her oddly. "Arson of course."

"Oh," he shook his head as if to clear it and turned back to his Emoritas. Which seemed to be fine after their little tumble on Friday.

Yep. Something big happened. He was in his own world. She swung around in her chair and stood up, crossing the yellow line and leaning down next to him. "You want to?"

"What?" he asked dumbly, blinking tiredly up at her.

"Go set a fire?" she leaned in really close trying to provoke a response. "Dewey's office? Nah, that would damage the Ivy Hallway above. How about we take a trip to Abbott's place? Or is it Macmillan now?"

Blinking rapidly, he seemed to realize just how close she was and he backed up, putting his back to her.

"No arson, Parkinson. I don't care to get arrested with you."

"You know I was in a plum mood all weekend after Friday and now you're determined to ruin it," she played at a pout, overdoing it a bit.

A lot actually.

"I know you're lying," he mumbled, reaching out and grabbing a clipboard, looking over the first page without reading any of the words.

"Oh?" she prompted, scooting over with him.

"You're never in a good mood," he responded, coughing to cover his voice breaking. "Also, line."

"Getting you so annoyed it made you yell 'Holy fuck!' was the key to my happiness, Longbottom."

"That's sad," he coughed again, throwing down the clipboard and rubbing his face with both hands. "Don't you have anything better to do? Like… I don't know… work?"

"Hmmm…."

Suddenly, she was overcome with the urge to distract him from his grief, and whatever it was causing it. She slid into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

As expected, he was too shocked to do anything but stare at her dumbly. "Wha-wha-wha-"

"Wha? What am I doing?" she laughed a deep, hearty laugh. Throwing her head back dramatically. "I'm fucking with you. Let's go get a drink."

"Drink?" he shook his head. "Pansy, it's 10 in the morning on a Monday."

"Your point?" she raised an eyebrow, watching him struggle with their closeness. And surprisingly, she didn't mind being in his lap at all.

"Dewey-"

"Can suck the fattest of eggs," she completed for him. "Even if he does come to check on us, when he sees you gone he will assume we're off doing mushroomy things. C'mon!"

She hopped up and pulled at his arms, though he continued to shake his head.

"You know as well as I how persistent I can be," she warned him when he didn't budge. Damn his man muscles. She continued to pull on his arms though, not wanting to give up.

"Fine, fine," he gave in.

"Yes!"

Operation Corrupt Neville Longbottom was going splendidly!

Still wearing their lab coats, they snuck out of the office and took the stairs instead of the elevator all the way to the first floor and to a rarely used side exit. Where she dragged him to the Apparation Point and took him straight to the only bar she knew stayed open 24/7.

Flemmings was dirtier than ever but the bartender put two cheap ales in front of them without asking and Pansy loved it.

"Best. Monday. Ever." She took two big gulps from her mug while Neville looked at her like she was insane. She clinked their glasses together. "C'mon, Nev, drink your problems away like the rest of us."

"That's not healthy," he told her, taking a small sip.

"And how do you usually deal with your issues then?"

He took another, deeper, drink. "Um. You know. I work and ignore them until they get much worse."

Strangely, she found that sincerely funny. Maybe since she flashed him on Friday he was actually relaxing around her? Showing a different side to the Herbologist she thought she knew?

Or maybe tortured just looked good on him.

She hit him with another eyebrow raise and waited, drinking her ale.

"Yeah," he caved easily. "My Gran died last night."

"Oof," she winced. "That's a tough one. I'm sorry."

"She raised me but we had a big falling out after the Memoriam and we never… we'll never reconcile…" he trailed off, eyes glazing over slightly.

Double Oof. Pansy didn't do family drama. She didn't do family at all really. Her own Grandmother had raised her, but raised was a strong word.

She spent the majority of her childhood at a boarding school for girls until she went to Hogwarts. Granny Phyllis died when Pansy turned 14 and left exactly one silver brooch in the shape of an acorn to Pansy and the rest of her fortune to a Brazilian lover named Edwardo.

"What did she do? Side with that crazy bint?"

"Don't," he warned, voice getting deeper and more threatening. A side of Neville Longbottom no one had seen since the war. "Don't speak of her that way."

"You still love her?" she pushed nastily. What was his problem? What could Abbott have ever done to warrant such loyalty from this man even years after they broke up?

"I'm… happy she's happy," he said finally and in such a way that made Pansy think she shouldn't be talking about Hannah Abbott right then.

But she was never one to do as she was told and bad decisions might as well be her middle name. "I'm not. She was a real brat in school and what she did to you is seriously fucked up. If she were here right now, I'd do to her what I did to Joel when I caught him playing pass the salami with another woman."

Neville glared in her direction, his beer pushed to the side. And they had a proper stare down. Unblinking and motionless for a good 60 seconds before he leaned in. "What did you do to your boyfriend?"

"Ex."

"Your ex-boyfriend."

"I cursed his toenails to grow to the size of tree trunks," she answered with a satisfying smile. "Big ones. Full of toe fungus."

"Because he cheated on you."

"Because he _fucking_ cheated on me," she reiterated. Can't leave out the F-bomb. Her entire life was based on that F-bomb.

"Then why do you care about Hannah? She didn't do anything to you."

"Because," she said slowly, leaning forward until they were nose to nose. "She fucking cheated on you, idiot. I may be a heartless, cranky bitch, but I don't hide that behind a fake smile."

Neville considered that for a long time. And maybe it was the beer or maybe it was because he was a damn bloody Gryffindor but suddenly he seemed full of confidence.

"You know what, Pansy?"

"What?" She prepared for an argument but she had a drink to help her through it. And honestly, she could bicker with him all day long.

She often did just that.

But instead he said, "I really enjoy that about you."

.

The next week of work went by uneventfully except for one small change. She made an effort to make Neville smile at least one a day. Which was monumental in her case as she was generally too lazy to do anything in routine.

Pansy was just about to invite him out for lunch, deciding that his sandwich was looking particularly unappealing that day, when there was an odd sound throughout the office.

Someone knocking on the door.

She caught Neville's eye, both of them surprised and staying in their seats. Neither sure what to do. Finally he called out, "Come in?"

No one but their direct supervisor Dewey ever came this far downstairs and he wouldn't bother to knock.

Of course when the door opened, Pansy almost wished it was Dewey.

The famous Chaser from the Appleby Arrows Joel Rivington walked in, chin held up high. Oh, Mr. Charming.

"Ugh," Pansy groaned, standing up quickly. "Well it's time for me to go to lunch."

"Wait, Pans, let's talk," Joel held his hands up, blocking her escape.

"Let's not and say we did?" she suggested, pushing her arms through the sleeves of her zip up jacket, running fingers through her hair afterwards so it would lay flat. "I certainly don't have anything to say that you want to hear, Joel."

"Please darling," he continued to block the doorway, faking grief for Neville's sake like Pansy couldn't tell the difference. Suddenly his 'charm' as she once saw it seemed awfully annoying and completely insincere. "You've been dodging me for weeks. I just want to talk."

No. What he wanted was an easy lay.

"I might be in the mood to give you another pedicure, if that's what you want." She smiled, letting her zeal come through. Pansy would be more than happy to curse him for a second time. Just seeing his face reminded her of what he did.

Cheating bastard.

They had plans—plans he made—to meet up at his place and go to dinner from there. The only thing she changed was her attire. He knew full well Pansy would be coming over and still set it up so she would find him in bed with another woman.

A blonde for that matter.

That he came to her office to grovel meant nothing.

Joel's eyes briefly glanced to Neville, checking to see if his audience was paying attention.

Thankfully, Neville channeled his shy side and had his head down, working over a log of Baying Buttercaps, wide slightly tanned capped mushrooms that smelled remarkably like browned butter.

His lunch ignored.

Dealing with Joel wasn't any fun, but Pansy found her thoughts wondering to Neville despite Joel standing right in front of her. How would he have reacted if he actually caught his old flame in the act? How different would his life and demeanor be if that disaster at the Memoriam hadn't happened?

She looked at the back of his neck and wondered if he would even be working down here in the basement with her.

"Pansy?" Joel asked, startling her out of her own thoughts. "I miss you terribly. Can't we go have some lunch and talk about things?"

"Talk?" Pansy pretended to think. And again, her thoughts went to Neville and how she would so much rather be going to lunch with him. "You and I never talked before."

"Umm…"

"Yeah. In fact, it was all sex, all the time," she narrowed her eyes at him, putting on a show purely for Neville. She just wanted to hear him laugh. "I mean, how much better of a girlfriend could I be? Anytime we got together, it was sex sex and more sex."

Neville's head seemed to sink even further over his work, the back of his neck slowly turning redder and redder.

"I didn't ask you for money or make you take me out to fancy dinners. I don't have any shitty family I made you meet. Can busty blonde say the same? Yeah. Basically, I'm perfect and you blew it buddy."

Joel's eyes went wide. "Perfect? You are so far from perfect I don't even know where to begin."

"Oh? Do tell?" Pansy crossed her arms.

"Getting to know a Doxy would be easier than getting any personal information out of you, and getting bit by one would be more pleasant."

"A doxy…?" Pansy scratched her chin, humming softly. "That's lame. I thought I would rate at least Banshee. I could do so much better than that."

From across the room, Neville burst into laughter. Ahh there it is. Ever since his Gran died all she wanted was get him to make that exact sound.

"See like that!" Joel argued. "I'm trying to have a conversation with you and you can't even take it seriously!"

"Oh, I'm quite serious," Pansy insisted. "And I would remind the famous Chaser that he came to see me. Not the other way around. Joel, I don't care. I didn't care before we got together and I don't care now. If you want to fuck other women that's fine with me. But you won't be dating me while you do it."

She reached over to her desk and grabbed the nearest mushroom—a healthy honey cap—and palmed it gently. Walking slowly towards Joel who seemed to be sputtering out an unintelligible response. "This is a deadly fungus, Joel. Instantaneous death to any who come into direct contact with it."

"Uh! UH! But you're holding it!"

"I've built up immunity, Joel!"

"It's true," Neville said from his desk, spinning around in his chair, lips turned up at the edges. "I've had to administer antivenom several times.."

"Years of slowly building up my tolerance allows me to hold it. But you?" Pansy stepped even closer to Joel, watching him shrink back. "One touch and bye-bye Arrows World Cup chance! They'll be hiring a new Chaser by Wednesday!"

"Ahhhhh!" Joel turned on his toe and rushed off without another word.

"Sucker," Pansy laughed, gently putting the Honey cap back where it belonged and happy to hear Neville's laughter filling the room. The mushrooms enjoyed it too. They stood up a little taller, caps growing a little wider, stalks strengthening.

And when the Honey Cap was settled she turned around and found Neville standing on _her_ side of the line.

"Ah-ah," she wagged her finger at him. "Line."

He didn't back up in the slightest. "I know what you're trying to do," he said.

"That line is law, Longbottom."

"You've been exceptionally nice to me lately, and frankly it's weird, but I appreciate it nonetheless."

"Oh? Weird? Want me to go back to being mean and cranky?" She stepped forward, smoothing down the collar of his lab coat. "Go back to picking on you for being a dud?"

"Why not both?" he asked. Slowly, his hand reached up to smooth out her own collar, his thumb just brushing the base of her neck.

She sucked in a sharp breath. The touch doing more to elicit a response from her than anything Joel ever did. "I believe the two choices are mutually exclusive."

"Knowing you, you could make it work," he pulled gently at her collar, eyes focused there instead of on her face. "Do you want to find out?"

"Perhaps," she stepped back but not before she tugged playfully at his collar like he did to her. "If you asked me out sometime, I might say yes. Now I'm off to lunch."

He backed up and retook his seat, going back to work with a big smile on his face. Pansy grabbed her bag and paused at the door, standing on the yellow line, watching him closely. Wanting to see what he would do and giddy with anticipation.

After a moment he peeked into his microscope and said, "Tomorrow night? I promise you won't find me with a busty blonde…"

Pansy burst out laughing. "Man, you really know how to pick up the chicks, Longbottom."

Then she stepped into the hallway, heading home for lunch.

"Wait! Is that a yes or a no?" he shouted from the office.

.

She didn't go out with him as she hadn't said yes yet, but he managed to convince her to go to his birthday party. Pansy walked into a cute little cottage lit up with multi-colored lights and balloons and streamers. Behind the chimney she could just spot the tip top point of a greenhouse poking into the sky between the tree tops but the party seemed to be going on inside, not out back.

Of course, the moment she walked in the noise levels dropped to a bare minimum except for the pleasant sound of music playing, all eyes turning on her. She was most certainly the odd one out here. Buncha damn Gryffindors and war heroes.

"Ooohh, this is going to be super fun," she stuck her tongue out sarcastically. "Anyone know where the bar is?"

The nearest party-goer pointed down a hallway and Pansy made sure to meet everyone's eyes as she walked towards it. Taking her time. Telling them they could suck it if they tried to say anything about her presence.

She was here by invitation.

And because she wanted to give Neville lots of chances to ask her out before she finally gave in and said yes.

The hallway she explored turned into a kitchen/eating area. The far wall completely made up of wide windows that allowed her to see into the forested backyard and the path that likely led to this elusive greenhouse she heard so much about.

No way their meager salary could afford such a perfect little cottage like this. He definitely inherited it, or the financial means to purchase it. And immediately to her right was a little bar nook, stocked full of liquor.

"Thank fucking god," she kicked off her heels and immediately poured a drink for herself.

Armed with a stiff drink, Pansy kept wandering, going through the kitchen and into another sitting area, where more of Neville's friends and possibly some family sat, eating snacks, laughing, enjoying themselves.

Too many familiar faces from school turned to look at her when she stopped in the doorway, going quiet with surprise. She was happy to see Lavender Brown had put on weight, especially after all the times the girl had called Pansy a 'cow' or 'puggy'.

She'd been chunky as a child, but not being able to afford food had done wonders for her figure. Not a diet Pansy would recommend.

But Neville was nowhere to be seen. She glared at every one in the room, just to be mean. "Anyone know where the birthday boy is?"

A few mumbled negatives later, Pansy continued into the next room, realizing she'd come full circle and arrived in the front room again. It got a little quieter, but not as much as when she first arrived. This side of the room however had snacks.

"Yes!" she danced over to the nearest tray and found sausage balls, a veggie plate, and kabobs. She made up a huge plate, because she was starving, and decided to snoop around.

It was like a reunion. Nearly everyone she spotted in attendance had been in her year at school or close to it. But she couldn't find Neville anywhere. Not sipping a drink and chatting like they were in the back room. Not playing cards like they were in the front.

Doing another lap, she decided to take the backdoor outside where she wandered down a bush lined stone path and to a green glass building full of plants.

But the door was locked.

Lamest birthday party ever. On the far side of the greenhouse she spotted a stone bench flanked by tall bushes that provided plenty of shade so she parked herself and munched on her free dinner.

Dear God. A real vegetable. What a concept. Her paycheck just covered rent and her share of the utilities with just enough left over for a bare amount of groceries each month. She ate a lot of pre-packaged food, which was easiest to duplicate with magic and make it last.

Moaning with happiness when she bit into the flaky sausage ball, she looked around and admired Neville's little garden. It was pleasantly shaded in this area of the yard due to the low tree cover that made a type of 'cave'.

Perfect condition for the dozens of mushrooms that spread in chaotic randomness across the damp stones layered cleverly between moss and rocks.

It was pleasing to look at, almost soothing. Her eyes wandered lazily over each cap and puff, identifying the scientific names and properties out of habit.

It annoyed her she did it without conscious thought, especially when her employers barely paid her enough to get by month to month—but whatever. Dewey was the only one willing to hire her and she was pretty sure it was just so he could give her a shit time in a socially acceptable environment.

Pansy was lost in thought and chewing on a lamb kabob when she heard a throat clearing nearby. Turning, she spotted Neville walking up the opposite path. Towards her and towards the house.

"You came," he said softly, smiling. He hadn't expected her to.

"It's your birthday, yet you're not inside celebrating with all your little friends?"

He shrugged, sitting next to her and stealing a sausage ball from her plate. He wasn't dressed for a party. He looked like he was going to work.

"Ginny threw it together for me, like every year. She feels bad because everyone always goes all out for Harry's birthday."

Blinking, Pansy didn't understand. "What's that got to do with you?"

"Oh well, his birthday is tomorrow. Day after mine."

"You really live in his shadow don't you?" she mused as she kept eating. "They never talk about all you did in 7th year, just about how Harry swooped in last minute and saved the day."

Shrugging Neville said, "I don't want them talking about me anymore, Pansy."

"Awww," she said, mouth full. "Are they picking on widdle Neville?"

She lifted her hand and pulled a small twig from the soft curls in his hair. "Seriously, Longbottom. You're quite a mess right now."

"Sorry, I was out for a walk. I told Gin I didn't really want a party this year, but…" another shrug. He seemed forlorn without his work. Kind of aimless.

"What would you have done, given the choice?" she asked, fully aware he was still grieving for his Grandmother.

"Gone to the botanical garden," he answered, smiling again.

Ooo, she was getting good at getting that smile out of him. She lifted her fingers to his hair again, pretending to search for more twigs and leaves. And not missing when he leaned into her touch slightly.

"There's a new one that opened up, close to work, apparently it has Blue Camellias. Very rare."

"Do you know as much about flowers as you do fungus?"

"Maybe," he continued to smile. "I like plants. Plants... make sense."

"Mushrooms aren't plants," she paused her petting to make a serious face at him. "They don't have chlorophyll."

Laughing, he nodded. "Okay, you got me. I'll bow to your superior knowledge, Mushroom Queen."

"Finally, the respect I deserve," Pansy put on a royal accent and resumed petting his soft hair, even going as far to run her fingers through it.

"I can easily see you on a throne," he watched his garden as she did and snacked with her comfortably. "Just picturing you shouting 'Off with their heads' every half hour or so."

"I'd make a few exceptions," she replied quickly, setting aside her empty plate and turning towards him. "Maybe once a day. For birthdays possibly."

"Phew, head is safe."

"For now," she warned playfully.

Another laugh, deep enough to curl her toes. "For now," he stared down at her, all brown eyes and sweet smiles. But behind it all, she knew he was sad. Deep down sad.

More than just losing his Gran. He'd been that way for as long as she knew him. Even before that dreadful Memoriam business. Before the war. He'd been a sullen kid who turned into a gloomy man.

One who was leaning in to kiss her. And she wasn't quite ready for it. She wanted him to really want it and she wanted to be sure for herself too. A mistake she made with Joel. She agreed to be exclusive with him without giving it much thought and ended up getting cheated on.

"Is there cake? A girl needs cake at a birthday party."

He backed off, looking a bit dazed as he nodded, before he stood up and pulled her to her feet by taking her hands. "What kind of party would it be without cake?"

"I don't know, I've never seen a party without the birthday boy before but here we are. Not at the party."

"Party is _right_ there," he insisted, leading her back towards the cottage.

"So? I guess that makes us… party adjacent?"

He burst into laughter. "It's my birthday," he argued, opening the door for her. "I'll do what I want."

"Now that's my kind of thinking, remember that when my birthday comes around."

"When is it?" he asked, going to the fridge and pulling out a brown rectangular box. He set it on the counter and lifted the lid, revealing a homemade chocolate cake that made her mouth water. Red and white icing on top spelled out _Happy Birthday Brave Neville._

"That would be February 21st, and I expect presents, chocolates, flowers…"

"I'll remember that," he grinned at her. Then he started shouting. "I'm cutting into the cake if anyone wants a slice!"

Pansy felt her heart pitter patter. Neville was a very literal man. If he said he was going to do something, he meant it. And though her birthday was a long way aways, she quite liked the idea of celebrating it with him.

Then she got to watch him cut into his own cake as people trickled in. Ginny Weasley rushed in yammering about candles but it was too late. All his friends got to watch as he held up the first slice and began feeding her cake as if it were just the two of them.

.

Friday night and Pansy found herself standing in front of her mirror again, curling the tips of her hair so it bounced by her cheeks and brushing on make-up so she didn't look like she spent 5 days a week in a damp basement.

No teddy this time.

He spoke several times about those damn red roses he grew in his greenhouse so she found a dress in Daphne's closet that was a deep, rouge red and fit like a glove. It hit mid-thigh but had a high neck that suited Pansy. As it had been shoved to the very back of Daphne's closet, clearly it hadn't seen a lot of use.

Daph preferred the kind of the dress that left nothing to the imagination.

She also preferred the kind of date where the dress didn't last very long at all. But of course when Pansy stepped out of her room, Daphne all the sudden had something to say about Pansy wearing the dress.

"Keep your grubby hands out of my closet, Parkinson!" she shouted from behind the bar top. Where she and Tracey were eating out of the same takeout box.

Nothing sadder than three broke and starved girls arguing over clothes.

"Do my eyes deceive me or is that my sweater you're wearing, Greengrass?" Pansy snapped.

"Whatever, our laundry clearly got mixed. But that dress was definitely in my closet."

"And look at that," Pansy said, wedging herself between them to steal a bite of their kung pao chicken. "Trace is wearing my leg warmers."

"Hands off-"

"That's ours!"

"Oh bite me," Pansy munched away happily. "That's delicious."

"Aren't you going out to dinner?" Tracey asked, trying to elbow Pansy out of the way.

"No, we're going to a botanical garden."

"What kind of crap date is that?!" Daphne asked, offended on Pansy's behalf.

"He assumes since I work with fungi all day, he thinks I like plants?" Pansy suggested, not wanting to admit she also wanted to go.

"You've made a grave error, Pans," Tracey said, mouth full of food. "Several actually."

"Yep, we've been discussing it."

"Oh trust me, I heard everything you two were saying through these paper thin walls."

"While you were trying on my dress."

"One, never date a coworker. That's your first mistake."

"It's a pity date," Pansy informed them. "His Gran died. And yes, it's your dress but clearly you bought it for me."

Tracey looked positively disgusted. "That changes the order of my list. Two: _Never_ date anyone who just had a death in the family. Too emotional, too messy."

"Gods, do I have time to even listen to this rubbish?" Pansy asked Daphne, who was searching the cabinet for chocolate cream filled cookies.

Pansy's cookies.

The ones she just hid that morning because she knew Daphne would steal them given half a chance.

"Where did you hide them?" she asked.

"Somewhere you'll never find them, tramp," Pansy smirked.

"Three: Don't date anyone with the kind baggage Neville Longbottom is sure to carry."

"I'll find them and eat them all while you're gone, you cow."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Pansy sent a mean look in Tracey's direction.

"The man fought in a war. That's going to bring about major issues. And don't even get me started on that Memoriam business. No one just gets over that kind of emotional trauma. No one. You know what they do? They take it right into the next relationship."

"You're full of shit," Pansy stole another bite of chicken before running back to her room for her cloak.

"And four," she continued, shouting at her all the way from the kitchen. "Never ever! Ever! Date anyone who doesn't _feed_ you dinner!"

Wrapping herself in her cloak, the same she wore with the teddy—hey she wasn't perfect, she definitely wanted to tease Neville—she checked herself in the mirror one last time to make sure she looked at least halfway decent.

And to make sure there wasn't anything stuck in her teeth.

"I can starve anywhere," she shouted back. "At least I'll be having a bit of fun while I'm starving."

Daphne and Tracey both burst into cheeky laughter. "Not at a _botanical garden_."

Sneering, Pansy made her exit. "I hope you both get food sickness."

"Hey if we get it, so do you, thief!"

Oops. That's right. She ate from the same takeout box.

Whatever.

Pansy slammed the front door on their laughter and made her way to the nearest Apparation point, arriving at the garden a short five minutes later. She waited by the entrance gate, a sturdy wooden thing draped in soft lights and pretty Forget-me-nots and fragrant jasmine that invited anyone walking by to come in and see what other wonders lay beyond.

She checked her watch and found she was a few minutes early, but time seemed to slow down as she waited. The minutes ticking by tortuously slow. 7 PM came and went. As did several couples, holding hands, looking cute. Coming and going to the gardens on a romantic Friday Night date. Ugh!

7:05.

7:15.

7:20.

At 7:22 she stomped her foot and realized she was the dud.

The dud who got stood up by Clueless Neville Longbottom. How embarrassing. Now her feet hurt from standing around and she wasn't having any fun to make up for the fact that she was starved.

Pansy aimlessly wandered down the street, digging through her purse. Did she have a few coins to grab something for food? Her old velvet coin purse was pathetically empty. Damn rent. Damn being an adult. Damn Granny for leaving her penniless and alone.

And damn Neville! What the hell!

She stopped in the middle of the walkway, realizing she'd been stood up. By her coworker. Just a few short weeks after being cheated on by her former boyfriend. And she was too broke to afford dinner!

What a crap life she led. Shaking her head, she turned around and headed straight back for the Apparation point, running home, and slamming through the front door with a lot of rage.

She wanted pajama pants and carbs.

"Ohh, welcome back, Pansy," Tracey said somewhere from a dark corner of the house.

"Not a word, Tracey Amelia Davis. Not a single word."

"If you sayyy so," she called in a sing-song voice.

Pansy continued to bang around the kitchen, looking for anything to eat, muttering the entire time. She found an egg in the fridge and smiled. Cradling it in her palm. "I'm eating the last egg!"

"What's the matter, Pans?" Daphne asked, coming to the kitchen entrance and sounding downright gleeful. "Don't you want to go on your date?"

"Shove it, Daph. I'd love to be on a romantic stroll through softly lit gardens right now, but guess what?" she snapped meanly.

"Whatever could be the problem?" Daphne wondered loudly.

"The problem! The problem is I got stood up by sodding Clueless Neville Longbottom of all people. Waiting in front of that damn garden like some sort of halfwit! Can't believe I agreed to go on a date with him. I spend 40 hours a week with him. He's a miserable, boring idiot and I let him get the better of me? He gets to stand me up? Fuck!"

She ranted and banged around, looking for an egg pan and wanting to break every cabinet door in the kitchen.

"Can't believe this. Clearly, I was a murdering arsonist in my last life and karma has caught up with me. I only date worthless morons and I'm stuck in this foodless hellhole with the two of you!" she shouted, ending in a frustrated, dramatic groan.

That resulted in her losing her grip and dropping the egg to the ground. It hit the linoleum with a cracking _splat_. Daphne brought a hand up to cover her mouth in shock as Pansy stood there. Watching the broken yolk seep from the crushed shell.

"What a comedy life is," Tracey said from the bar top, peering down at the broken egg in shock. "Also, would this be a bad time to tell you who showed up right after you left?"

"Huh?" Pansy looked up dumbly, watching Neville stand up from the couch behind Tracey, and give her the saddest little wave. He looked completely crushed. And she hadn't noticed him at all when she came home.

"They said you would be back soon…" he explained in a depressed voice.

"I… I thought we were meeting at the flowers. Not flowers. Plants place. The plants place with the flowers…" she explained poorly.

"And I thought we were meeting here…" he replied. "But I think I should go…"

His face pinched as if in pain. Oh god. He heard her entire rant. Her Hangry fueled rant. Pansy watched Neville leave the house while Tracey and Daphne watched the disaster unfold.

Once the door shut firmly, Pansy found herself turning on her roommates. "Are you _kidding_?! You couldn't tell him I left to meet him?!"

"We thought it would be funny," Daphne winced. "We were wrong. Would we do it again?"

"Probably," Tracey's face matched Daphne's.

"I hate you both."

Pansy left the broken mess of the egg and went into her room, slumping over on the bed. She had no one to blame but herself for this mess she landed in.

After a few minutes, both her roommates crawled into bed with her. Apologizing.

"Sorry Pans."

"Yeah, we didn't think you would wait so long when he didn't show up. We thought you would come right home."

"You must like him, if you waited so long for him."

"I'm ignoring my feelings right now," she told them, reaching behind her bedside table and taking out the hidden cookies.

"I knew you had cookies somewhere!" Daphne shouted in joy, making them all laugh.

They ate the entire box together and Pansy realized they were right. She _did_ like Neville. She liked that he let her pick on him and participated in their bickering. Bickering that had toed the line of flirting more and more lately. How awful would it be to be stuck in that office with anyone else?

_Hello misery, my name is Pansy Parkinson._

She laid there for a while after all the cookies were gone and after her friends left to do their own Friday night thing, feeling like a ripe bitch lying around in Daphne's dress.

It was the first time she had the house to herself in ages, but she couldn't enjoy it. Not this time. She felt heavy with guilt and uncertainty. The bed felt extra lumpy but she didn't move.

Not even when she heard a small knock at the door.

The last time that happened, Joel had showed up at the office. Hell no was she dealing with the likes of him right now. She really would commit arson if she saw his stupid face.

But by the third knock she couldn't ignore it any longer. She stumbled out towards the front and opened the door without checking through the peephole.

"Oh my god," she said. "What did you do Neville?"

He pushed by her, hoisting up several brown paper bags. Full of groceries. He didn't say a word, just unloaded the bags onto the counter and began putting up groceries as if he knew exactly where things went.

"Neville!"

He paused, holding a box of fresh strawberries, and glared at her. "I'm _not_ as clueless as you might think."

"I shouldn't have said that, I was just-"

"Hungry?" he completed for her. "Upset? Because you thought I stood you up? I was sitting here thinking you stood me up and that Daphne and Tracey were trying to let me down easy. So I know what it feels like."

"I still shouldn't have said what I said," she explained, her voice turning into a mumble. "I didn't mean any of it."

"You what?"

"I said I didn't mean any of it," she repeated, loudly.

"I didn't hear you."

"Fucking hell, I said _I didn't mean any of it_!"

When he only smiled, Pansy realized she'd been had. "Oh, fuck you, Longbottom."

She dashed across the kitchen and wrapped her arms around his neck, planting a big, fat kiss right on his lips.

Shock had him completely still, holding strawberries in one hand and a jar of milk in the other. It was short, their kiss, but once she backed off she realized he was truly dazed.

He wobbled a bit before gulping. "Um… um…"

Pansy took the milk before he dropped it and set it in the fridge, turning to look through the rest of the groceries. Swearing out loud with each item she pulled out.

He got the _good_ groceries.

The strawberries were just the beginning. He also got a bag of green apples and a handful of plums that looked downright divine. Fresh bagels with a garlic and scallion cream cheese spread. Two big jars of peanut butter and honey. A box of crackers and a block of white cheddar cheese.

"Oh Neville," she bit down on her lip. Why did she want to cry? "What did you do?"

"Um…" he finally shook himself. Did her kiss affect him that much? "I've heard you live in a foodless hell."

There were also some basics. Eggs, bread, and potatoes to go with the jar of milk. "Oh Neville…" And why did she keep saying that?

"I just wonder why, though," he said softly, finding a knife and cutting slices in the cheese to go with the crackers. "I know it's not my business, but we're both in the same position at work. You should make enough to afford at least some groceries."

He opened the crackers and placed a single square of cheese on top, before turning around and offering it to her.

By feeding it to her. Just like he fed her cake.

A pattern was forming and she loved it. Or maybe she was just that hungry. No it was Neville—she could tell he enjoyed feeding her by the look on his face.

She couldn't believe he returned with groceries. It was far better than any dinner date they could've gone on. Far better than any moment she spent with Joel. And the more she thought about it, the more Neville-ish it seemed.

He was such a humble, caring person and most people never realized it because of how shy and secluded he normally acted.

"Damn, Longbottom, you're way out of my league," she licked her lips, beginning to feel a little dazed herself.

"Only with you would I go from miserable, boring idiot to out of your league in an hour's time."

"Don't you know by now never to take anything I say seriously?"

"You're right," he fed her another cracker. "But they don't call me clueless for nothing."

She burst into laughter. "I guess I'm pretty clueless too. What a pair we make."

.

Pansy expected them to have sex right away. The attraction was there, for sure. The flirting alone got her blood pumping. But every time she made a move, like going to tear his pants off, he would back off. Asking her to wait.

Ugh. The waiting. But it wasn't as if the attraction was one sided. He was certainly having a hard time… hard being the operative word and yet he always backed off if things got too heated. It was just so different from any previous relationship she had.

And not because they weren't having sex.

The way he kissed her, as if she were something precious to him, constantly left her a little breathless and way off guard. She often wondered if he was overcompensating for something, or if this was simply Neville.

While she tried to figure it out, Pansy had to ban him from any physical contact at work because she couldn't focus.

Not that she wanted to focus at work, but Dewey had been especially up her ass lately, constantly checking her work and second guessing all her results. And while there was no rule about coworkers dating, she was hesitant to let their supervisor know about their sudden onset of Physical Attraction Syndrome. Symptoms included uncontrollable snogging, relentless flirting, and massive libido.

She was terminal.

The big thing was there was a new position about to become available two floors up on the Potion Brewers floor. They were looking for someone with a background in Spores and Fungus.

She was a Spore Specialist and Neville, the only other Spore Specialist in the entire company, didn't want the position. Why? She couldn't figure it out. The position paid over three times what she was currently making and she'd never been terrible at brewing either.

The day of the interview came and Pansy nailed it. Which was good, because she skipped lunch in order to hold the interview and not miss any hours.

She felt like there was no way she could have done better. She answered all the technical questions correctly, even the trick one at the end, and talked easily with the Herbologist who would be her direct boss should she get the position. His name was Lloyd. Sweet guy.

It also felt like they got along well as the interview progressed. Way better than her and Dewey. She wanted to throw him under the bus when Lloyd asked about her current position, but she just barely held back.

Instead of calling Dewey a sexist brown-noser, she managed a 'stoic and professional' with a straight face, not wanting to come off as bitter to her potential new employer. She returned to the basement office with a skip in her step and fell right into Neville's lap, the yellow line long since ignored.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned in for a long, leisurely kiss that ended just before it would have gone too far. It wouldn't be too much longer before they spent the night together. Right? Maybe?

"I take it the interview went well then?" he asked, looking positively frazzled.

"Yes," she hopped out of his lap before she kept kissing him. "It feels good. I really need this job."

"Jeez, sick of me already?" he teased, pulling at her belt loop.

"Yes, dear god, so sick of you," she said, wiping lipstick from his face. Clearly, she broke her own rule about not touching. But she was in such a good mood! She couldn't help it.

"Let's go out and celebrate then?" he suggested, eyes bright. "My treat."

"Aren't you a doll?" she cooed. "But no, no celebrating until it's real. Until I know for sure."

"Fine," he returned to his work, grinning. "I can see you only want me for my groceries."

"Damn straight. You're a big hit with Daph and Tracey."

"Am I? Every time I come over they threaten my life and try to come on to me."

Pansy laughed, feeling sorry for her boyfriend. She wheeled her chair over and sat next to him, petting his Honey Cap gently. "I know I complain about them all the time. But we're all really close, ya know?"

"Yeah," he shot her a quick smile. "I know it comes from a place of love."

"None of us made it out of school with any family," she explained softly. "So really, we're more like sisters than friends because we're all we have."

"I can see that," he stopped and turned towards her, putting a hand on her knee. "You don't have to explain. Daphne and Tracey aren't going to scare me off."

"Phew," she pretended to wipe her forehead. "Good because it's probably going to get worse before it gets better."

He started doing that thing again where he looked at her like she was precious to him. Like she meant more to him than she could know.

But was it real? She wondered as she bit down on her lip. This lingering thought in the back of her mind said he was trying to avoid another Hannah Abbott situation. Trying to avoid falling in… dare she say… love? And yet, they hadn't even talked about having sex yet.

"You're not going to walk in on me-" he took a deep breath. "Fucking a busty blonde, Pansy."

"Oh my god, another F-Bomb! I'm so happy," she cried dramatically.

"Fuck," he told her, smiling. "You're such a bad influence. Look at this."

He gestured for her to come closer to his microscope and she went willingly, bending over and peering into the lens. She spotted familiar bisidiums, lightning sparking in an arc shape between the cells.

"You showed this to me before," she remembered. "What is this?"

"My Honey Cap," he told her.

"It's happy to see you," she insisted.

"No, Pansy," he brought a finger up to her cheek and brushed her skin gently. "It only does that when you're around."

His touch sent her flying, making her skin hum for more. The chemistry was there. What was the hold up?

"I don't worry about finding you with another woman," she told him, mirroring his position and brushing her thumb over his cheek. "I worry that… we haven't even had sex yet…"

"Why are you in such a rush?" he asked, keeping his voice even.

"Because," she huffed out a breath, not wanting to have such a serious conversation and also wanting to solve this issue and get the bed squeaking. "What if I invest alllll this time in you and then find out your cock looks like this?"

She grabbed the nearest mushroom, a baby puff, and placed it in front of him. He burst out laughing, really loud, booming laughter. It made her laugh too. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this, Longbottom? How? Tell me how?!"

He continued to laugh, face growing red as his eyes watered. "Stop, Pansy. The things you say..."

"You see my dilemma?" she continued, every word dripping with drama, which just made him laugh harder. "I know it isn't me. I'm _gorgeous_ , in case you're completely blind. So it has to be you. What is it? Puff Cap or…"

She reached out and grabbed the Honey Cap they'd been observing for weeks, which had a very wide, very flat cap. "Surely not this?"

Still howling, Neville shook his head, face completely red now as his chest rumbled with laughter. "Definitely not!"

"Phew. Jesus Christ," she sat the Honey Cap aside and reached for an Inky Cap. Which had a cap that started very wide at the base and thinned as it got taller, sort of like a fat teardrop. "Not this?!" she shouted. "Tell me it isn't like this?!"

"Stop, Pansy," he pleaded, slapping his knee, but she loved hearing his laughter.

"Not that then. Hmm… you tell me, Neville. Put me out of my misery. I'm begging you! I'm _begging you_!"

Wiping his face, he attempted to calm down. "You're insane, woman. Insane."

But he was looking around the room, looking at all the mushrooms they'd grown over the years. Standing up, he walked around, shaking his head, smile wide enough to make her heart swoon.

She was half in love with him already.

Then he grabbed a mature Penny Bun from a top shelf and set it down in front of her.

"Oh. Now you're just teasing me," she pretended to faint over the desk. Groaning dramatically. Then she sat up and grabbed his coat, pulling him forward into the space between her legs. She looked up to his smiling face as his hands came down to the table on either side of her. "How could you do this to me?!"

"What is all the noise about?" a harsh voice called from the doorway.

Neville jumped away as Pansy startled. He fell back into the nearest table, sending mushrooms and logs flying through the air. But Pansy stood up and drew her wand out, levitating each mushroom gently to her desk.

"Ms. Parkinson!" Dewey shouted, quill behind his ear, clipboard in his hand, spittle flying from his mouth. "What have you done?!"

"Nothing?" she looked at him like he was crazy. She was the one that saved the damn mushrooms! She bent down to help Neville up, who was rubbing his elbow. He must have knocked it.

"I want this cleaned up immediately! Any damaged property will come directly out of your salary!"

And he marched away, nose up in the air.

"I swear to god, I get paid 400 gold pieces a month to be yelled at by that man," she mumbled, suddenly in a rotten mood. She bent down to inspect the table and see if it could be easily fixed with magic.

"Did you say 400?" he asked quietly.

Um. What?

She stood up, accidentally pointing her wand at him. Or maybe not. "Yes, that's how much this position pays. That's what you make, is it not?"

He didn't say anything, but that was answer enough.

"Neville, I swear if you don't tell me how much…"

"I make that a week," he admitted in a small voice.

"Fuck!" she shouted. "Are you serious?! No wonder you didn't apply for that job!"

"MS. PARKINSON!" Dewey shouted, reappearing at the door. Along with several other people who worked in the basement. Obviously they heard all her F-bombs. Well good.

"FUCK!" she marched over and grabbed her jacket and backpack, swinging it over her shoulder. "You pay me a fourth of what you pay Neville when we do the exact same job!? You sexist piece of shit! I quit! If I ever see you again, I'll feed your body to my mushrooms, Dewey!"

.

Friday night and Pansy sat crossed legged on her bed in her pajamas, eating stale banana chips she found in her closet. She was about 84% certain she bought them at least a year ago. If she died, she died. Fate take her. Or food poisoning, whatever.

Just beyond her door she could hear Tracey and Daphne messing with Neville—who she vehemently ignored for two weeks straight now. Rent was due tomorrow and she didn't have the money. Unsurprisingly, she hadn't heard from Lloyd. Obviously he hadn't offered her the job position after finding out she told Dewey she would feed his body to mushrooms. Not exactly a thing you say to your boss.

Did she blame Neville for her current predicament? Yes. But unfairly. It wasn't his fault in the least she screamed at her boss, quit on the spot, and kicked his knee in as she left.

Er—wait. Pansy didn't kick his knee in. She just imagined doing that several times a day since she became unemployed.

Directly outside her door she heard Daphne doing her best to seduce Neville. She heard a jacket unzipping and Neville letting out an impassioned "Whoa…!" as he ran. She could hear the shuffling and it made her smile. It had been going on for nearly ten minutes now.

"Pansy doesn't want to play but Tracey and I would be willing."

"No, thank you Daphne," Neville said politely, if a little afraid. "I'm only here to see Pansy."

"But she doesn't want to see you," Tracey chimed in.

The sharks. They were trying to eat him alive. She heard a slight movement, and she imagined Neville running away from whatever lewd efforts her roommates were making.

"She can't avoid me forever," Neville told them and she heard a knock at her door immediately followed by footsteps away from her door. Neville still running.

"You can't avoid us forever," Daphne purred seductively, obviously chasing him.

"I will hold on for as long as it takes," he shouted. Pansy heard a chair tip over and a riot of giggles. God she loved her roommates. Though they weren't going to love her after tomorrow when she showed them an empty coin purse instead of rent money.

"We'll let you in," Tracey said slowly, as if in invitation. "If you entertain us first."

"I see what you two are doing," Neville said very close to her bedroom door. "It's not going to work."

"Whatever do you mean, darling?"

"We would never try to trick you."

"We think you're fantastic."

"And fantastic looking."

"If Pansy wants to join later-"

"She's more than welcome!"

A chorus of giggles. Damn. They were scary. Pansy ate another chip and waited, still debating if she wanted to save Neville from her roommates or not.

"Flattered as always," Neville said, obviously backed into a corner. "But my answer is, and always will be no."

"No?"

"No?"

"We don't like no."

"Definitely don't like no."

"I said no," Neville insisted. "I love Pansy. I _choose Pansy_."

She stopped mid-chew. Did he say love? Even her roommates shut up at his declaration. Whatever. Big fat what-the-fuck-ever. They hadn't even had sex yet. She was broke, unemployed, and sarcastic to the point of cruelty. What was there to love?

She hopped up and opened the bedroom door, leaning against the frame and grumpily eating out of date banana chips. The scene in the living room was exactly as expected.

Daphne and Tracey backed Neville into a corner, Tracey's arm on Daphne's shoulder. They were leering at Neville in a sultry way, trying to get him to crack. Running fingers up his shirt and trying to undo the top button.

"Heel, ladies," Pansy said, eating another chip. Ugh, so chewy and stale.

Daphne pouted, her red lip popping out with a sniff as she walked away. Tracey patted Neville's cheek. "Next time, cutie, next time."

Neville heaved a sigh of relief once they walked away. Poor fool. Surrounded by sassy witches who knew no bounds. But putting up with Daphne and Tracey certainly earned him a few minutes of her time.

"Well if it isn't Mr. Moneybags," she pasted on the most fake smile she could conjure. "Come to gloat?"

Neville didn't respond. He stood in front of her and began the stare down. Oh, he wasn't playing.

"Banana chip?" she offered. "I know they look a little green…"

"Pansy," he snatched the chips away from her. "I—" his gaze caught on the package. "Babe… These expired last year."

A shrug. "Why do you think I'm so sour all the time?"

"Because you're cranky by nature. It's a serious character flaw." He never used to mock before they started dating. She really was a bad influence.

"Hey that's my line," she pouted, but actually happy he took those damn chips away from her. They did not taste great and they were starting to make her stomach hurt.

"Because you refuse to communicate with me, unless you're yelling," he crossed his arms. "Like a screeching banshee."

A slow smile spread across her face, though Pansy tried very hard not to let it. Sweet and fluffy words would have only made her angrier, and she would not have believed them anyways. Instead he remembered her fight with Joel and used it to make her smile.

Damn, maybe he did love her. He certainly knew her well enough to know how to handle her sourness. Pansy nodded to her roommates, who were currently eavesdropping from the kitchen over a bowl of fried rice they'd just taken out of the fridge. "Why didn't you take them up on their offer? Isn't it every man's dream to have a threesome with two beautiful women?"

"We can make that dream reality, Neville."

"Yeah, we'd love to make that dream come true."

"They were just trying to see how loyal I am to you," he shook his head, pointedly ignoring Daphne and Tracey's sexy whistles. "They want to see if I'm a cheater like Joel."

"Oh definitely, but that doesn't mean they're bluffing."

"Well," he leaned in a little closer. "I'd rather be fighting with you than having to entertain your roommates, Mushroom Queen."

"Only with you could I go from screeching banshee to Mushroom Queen," she reached out and speared fingers through his hair. He tilted his head into her hold. She heard kissy noises from the kitchen and decided it was time to let Neville into her room.

She stepped aside and gestured him in, shutting and locking the door after. He didn't wait.

"I swear, I had no idea the difference in our pay. I would have said something," he insisted. "I did say something in fact."

"I'm sure you did," she brushed by him and flopped down onto the unmade bed, stretching out. "What did Dewey have to say about your pesky opinion of my paycheck, Neville?"

He stood awkwardly in the mess of her room, looking around like he was disgusted. He should be. She hadn't cleaned in a million years.

"Um…" he mumbled, spinning around as he took in the massive piles of dirty clothes, books and magazines, and shoes. She wasn't gross, just cluttered.

"Still having feelings of love?" she asked meanly.

"That's not," he gently kicked aside a small area so he could stand evenly. "That's not something that goes away, Pansy."

"No? So you still have feelings for Hannah?" she rolled to her side and propped her head with her elbow.

"That's not something that goes away easily," he amended.

"Give it time," she frowned, thinking about the banana chips. "Everything _expires_."

5 words, and she destroyed him. Pansy watched his face fall in such a gloomy way. Then he held out a small folded up piece of parchment with a Gringott's symbol on the corner. One she didn't take. Dear God if he tried to give her money she was going to curse him into next week. She was going to do so much worse to Neville than curse his toenails.

"I didn't talk to Dewey," he told her, voice flat. "I talked to Tristan. We're buddies. He issued back pay for the last four years you've worked there."

"Tristan… _Rees_? As in… the owner of The Conservatory?" she asked, suddenly serious. The one who wrote the paychecks? She sat up and took the paper from him. It was a deposit slip. For money. A big one.

Really big.

"Oh my God, what did you do?!"

She felt faint, hand trembling slightly.

"It's your money, Pansy, I wanted you to have it. Sorry I couldn't do more."

"Wait—where are you going?" she managed to choke out.

"Home," he was already opening the door. "Don't worry about me, Pansy. I've survived unrequited love once before."

"Who said anything about unrequited love?" Pansy rushed over and slammed herself into the door, shutting it with her body.

That man just saved her ass and she turned around and made him feel unwanted which certainly wasn't the case. She spread her arms out, blocking the door. "Nev?"

Another sigh, and he leaned over her, bracing a hand against the door. Pleasantly close. "Pansy."

"Who said anything about un-re-quited _loooo-ve_?" she dragged out each word.

"I get the feeling that these feelings are one-sided," he mumbled, not quite meeting her eyes. "Seeing as you ignored me for two weeks straight."

"I had an emotional breakdown and threatened my ex-boss, maybe I just needed some time to myself," she told him, lying through her teeth.

"Maybe, or maybe you don't know how to be in a relationship."

"Ex-cu-se me, I've been in relationships before, more than you."

"But have you ever been in love before?" he countered.

Damn. He thought he was so smart, didn't he? Jerk. "No."

"I know all about it," he said, looking downright bleak. "It's when you love someone and they say they love you and act like they love you back but really they're sleeping with your buddy Ernie like 80 times a day."

"Oh yeah?" she gulped. If she leaned forward even an inch she could kiss him. And it was either that or go find Hannah and punch her right in her mouth. With a mushroom. A poisonous one. Just splat, right in the face.

"I did, actually, totally, 100% fuck Ernie earlier."

Neville's eyes closed in exasperation, giving her that look that said he just couldn't believe the things she said. She was very familiar with that look.

"Yeah," she continued, not wanting him to go. There was one foolproof way to ensure he remained. Tease him mercilessly. "That's why the door was locked. Ernie was trying to get his fat ass out through the window."

Was that a slight chuckle she heard? Was his chest shaking with silent, irresistible laughter? "I mean that was only round 78 of sexy time, so he'll be back soon for 79 and 80 respectively," she shrugged. "You'll have to leave, I hope you understand. We're going for 81."

Pansy reached up to pet his creased cheeks. "Is that why we haven't had sex yet? Because you're afraid I'll turn around and sleep with someone else? I'm not a cheater, Nev. And! It's not... the feelings… of … you know… it's not unrequited. So stop being so insecure."

"You ignored me for two whole weeks," he complained, but his frown was gone.

"I'm sorry," she told him honestly, pulling his face in closer. "I'm really cranky. But you definitely saved my ass. How can I thank you properly?"

Neville pretended to think on it before snapping his fingers. "I guess I'll go see if Daphne and Tracey still want my company."

That idiot just made a joke. Pansy pretended to groan in pain, pushing him towards her bed. "I can't stand you, you know that?"

"Clearly, I feel the same," he grinned, grabbing onto her hips as she walked him backwards.

"There's only room enough for one sarcastic bitch in this relationship, Longbottom, and guess what? That's me, all me," she warned him, pushing on his chest. He sat down on the bed and she stood before him, feeling wanted and in control, and more than anything, feeling relieved.

"Damn," he said with a snarky smile, pulling her into his lap. "Guess we have to break up."

Out in the kitchen, Daphne and Tracey ate their dinner of fried rice at the counter, shoulder to shoulder. Listening to the noises coming from Pansy's bedroom. It went on for ages. On and on and on. Jeez.

"Have you ever heard her laugh like that before?" Tracey asked Daphne.

"No, never. Didn't think she was capable of it, to be honest. There she goes again."

"That's a _real_ laugh. She's not faking it."

"I thought they were going to—ahh there it is."

"Aww, it sounds so sweet."

The laughter turned to soft moans, a bed squeaking slowly.

"That is adorable."

"Should we tell her that Lloyd fellow sent in a job offer?"

"Hmmm… let's make her wait a bit. She's been stalling about rent all week. Make her sweat."

"Sounds like a plan. Especially if we're going to have to listen to that from now on. Hey! Haven't you two ever heard of a Privacy Charm before?!"


End file.
